


Life in Technicolor

by templeandarche



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Best Dad ever, Character Study, Gen, Joe West all the things, Protective Joe West, fathers and daughters, fathers and sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templeandarche/pseuds/templeandarche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good".  - Stitch</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freneticfloetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freneticfloetry/gifts).



**YELLOW** :

It didn’t matter what Barry did - the man in yellow seemed to follow.

Joe would find remnants of his son’s imaginary bogeyman all around him; his fear of thunderstorms, his obsession with new technology and scientific advancements that Barry was convinced would help prove his belief that his father wasn’t a murderer, and most telling, the streaks of yellow that appeared in every picture the court appointed child psychologist asked him to draw for her.

Iris had even given up her favourite summer dress, claiming that the yellow fabric made Barry sad, even if he’d never voiced his feelings aloud.

Joe had smiled and kissed his daughter on the top of her head, thankful again for the one good thing he and Francine had made in their time together. 

It was nearly nine months since Barry moved into their home and Joe knew he needed to give the boy more time to come to grips with what he had witnessed. His angry outbursts were happening less and less, and he hadn’t tried to run away in over a month. But no matter how many sessions with the shrink, Barry refused to believe the truth, instead desperately clinging to the man in yellow, made of lightning and impossible speed. 

Late Summer storms were common this time of the year and the weatherman predicted that tonight would be a spectacular example of mother nature at her worst. Tornado warnings were in effect for two counties over and he already had a mild headache brewing at the thought of what kind of delinquent shenanigans he’d be encountering on the job this evening (his partner Chyre always said that nothing was worse than low level crooks and shit weather - some idiot wannabe criminal mastermind always believed there was a better chance of robbing the 7/11 during a blizzard or a hurricane). The kids had a new sitter they were getting used to while he worked some extra shifts to pad his bank account. Now a single parent with two kids, Joe was starting to wonder how paying for two college educations on a CCPD salary was going to happen.

Still, money issues aside, Joe was worried about leaving Barry. He’d stayed quiet through dinner, even picking at his favourite pizza, worriedly glancing out the window every few minutes. Watching and waiting for any shift in the cloud cover, his sad eyes monitoring the darkening of the sky.

Reluctantly, Joe hugged the kids goodbye and gave bedtime and snack instructions before departing with Chyre. Their shift ran smoothly, the boomer passing through town after only 30 minutes. 

He made it home sometime before two a.m. and paid the yawning sitter. “Any problems?”Joe asked. 

Angie hesitated. ”No problems, but Barry freaked out when the storm hit.” 

“I know he’s had a rough time, and Iris insisted on staying with him. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Joe thanked her and walked her to her car before heading upstairs to check on the kids.

He found them both in Barry’s room. Barry was curled up in his bed, dangerously close to the edge without actually falling out of it. Iris lay on a mess of bedding on the floor, her arm reached out, curled fingers brushing the ends of Barry’s comforter. 

Joe stood in the doorway, silent in the dark and watched them for a little while. For the first time since he’d brought Barry home he felt completely certain that he’d made the right choice.

Barry belonged with them. 

**RED** :

His first thought when he saw Iris descend the stairs in her prom dress was _when did my baby grow up so fast_? Iris beamed her dazzling smile upon him as Joe coughed once, then again trying to clear his throat and keep the proud papa tears at bay. Iris waited patiently at the bottom of the landing, and bit her lip to keep from laughing at her father’s sudden flood of emotion.

“Dad! Stop. Just stop.” Her teasing tone softened her words and Joe grinned back at her, love for his daughter overwhelming his melancholy. 

‘Stop? Stop what?” He countered. “Stop taking pictures?? I don’t think so.”

Iris protested half-heartedly as he pointed the camera at her and snapped shot after shot. Joe wasn’t much of a photographer and one out of every three takes were blurry or cropped half her head off, but he needed to capture as much as he could.

Iris tolerated Joe’s paparazzi skills for another minute before she sought help. “Barry! Save me, PLEASE.”

Laughing, she darted past Joe on heels he thought much too old for a seventeen year old to where Barry lounged on the couch. Unlike Iris, glowing in her red gown, Barry was dressed in cargo shorts and a ratty old Central City Police Department t-shirt he’d borrowed from Joe and never given back.

Tugging him to his feet she pulled him close. “Dad, take one of me and Barry.” 

“Iris, I don’t think I’m dressed for this.” Barry pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. “Do you really want your prom pics ruined by me?”

“Ugh, Barry. Enough with the melodramatics. You’re my best friend. Of course I want you in my pictures.” Linking her arm with his, she pulled Barry in close. Tilting her head towards his shoulder, she ordered, “now stop arguing and smile.”

Joe looked through the viewfinder, trying to fix the zoom function he’d somehow activated. Up close, Iris was at ease, glowing and confident in her scarlet dress. Her hair was piled in waves on the top of her head, lips and nails painted an exact match to her dress. His smile faltered as he noticed she’d worn Francine’s pearl earrings.

It felt like a sucker punch to his stomach, the guilt gnawing deep inside. He watched Iris tug on each stud to make sure the back was secure. Joe knew she treasured what little mementos she had left of her mother - only wearing the earrings on very special occasions. It killed him to know she probably got ready wishing for the mother he’d made up while he tried to forget the addict that had abandoned them both.

Determined to not let his past choices haunt him tonight, he pushed all thoughts of Francine from his mind. Joe fiddled with the flash button, hoping he’d chosen the right setting to avoid red eyes. Iris still referred to the their summer vacation to Starling City when she was ten as the Exorcist Road Trip (every single picture he took came out with demon eyes). “That’s it Bare, big smiles!” he encouraged his adopted son. Rolling his eyes, Barry obliged, mouth wide. But Joe noticed the stiffness in his shoulders and the faint pink in his cheeks. 

He looked nervous and his blush deepened as Iris pressed closer. “Come on, Dad! Take the shot.” 

She looked out the window, distracted by the passing headlights. “The limo will be here soon.”

Iris missed the look on Barry’s face, too busy looking forward to prom to notice what was going on in front of her. Joe could see it clearly enough, a mix of hunger and longing, embarrassment and adoration. He lowered the camera, partly in shock. 

A horn was the only warning he had before home was invaded by a whirlwind of teenage girls. Barry escaped to the kitchen, his face firmly back into place, leaving Joe alone to brave the shrieking girls, drenched in a cloud of perfume which wafted through the air as they embraced again and again.

After another twenty minutes of posing for new pictures and firmly reminding everyone about the dangers of underage drinking Joe waved the group off. He was happy she’d chosen to go to prom with her friends instead of the ex-boyfriend that she’d remained friendly with. Joe didn’t hate the kid, but Iris deserved better, and the last thing that he’d wanted was a prom-night reunion.

Suddenly feeling very old, he resigned himself to a cup of coffee. As much as he trusted his daughter, it was going to be a long night before she was home again.

He shuffled into the kitchen, surprised to see Barry still downstairs. “I figured you’d run off to your room to hide when the girls got here.”

Barry shrugged, then shook his head. “Nope. Thought I was hungry.” There was a bowl of soggy cheerios in front of him, half eaten. He stirred his spoon listlessly for a few seconds, then admitted defeat and pushed it away.

Joe watched him, waiting to see if any spark of what he witnessed earlier was evident. If he was right (and, as a detective, he was usually right), Barry was in love with Iris.

And she had no idea.

 **BLACK** :

At S.T.A.R. Labs the machines hooked up to Barry were silent. Nothing whirred, beeped, or buzzed. Sometimes lights would blink, signifying a minescule change in Barry’s condition. The genius who looked like a twelve year-old named Cisco had tried to explain what each machine measured, waving charts and using medical jargon Joe didn’t understand.

All he knew was that Barry wasn’t waking up. 

Wells had made good on his word, despite Joe’s misgivings, and so Barry was receiving the best care possible. His team was working around the clock, trying everything in their power to bring him back. They took care of him and Iris too - Cisco told bad jokes hoping to make Iris smile while Dr. Snow, a sweet and grave young woman who had lost her fiance during the explosion, brought Joe coffee and kept him company during his vigil by Barry’s bed.

Despite all their combined efforts, Barry remained in his coma. Every day that passed caused Joe’s hope to see his son smile again diminish. He kept up a brave face, for Iris, who pleaded with Wells to save her best friend, the boy she’d loved from childhood. Time became the enemy and days turned into weeks and weeks stretched into months. It was becoming harder and harder to keep believing that Barry would come back to them. 

Joe wasn’t a superstitious man. He didn’t have a post shift locker room ritual or wear a St. Christopher medallion for luck like some of the guys in the precinct. He wasn’t overly religious, attending church only on holidays or for a funeral.

He had only prayed, really prayed, a handful of times in his life. After finding Iris unhurt when her mother overdosed and left the stove alight he’d hugged her close and whispered his thanks into the top of her head, her soft hair muffling his words.

When his mother was in hospice, her mind and her memories lost to Alzheimer's, he asked for peace for her pain. He never forgot her crying.

His first year with the CCPD, he’d held the hand of a boy trapped in car after a horrific crash. Joe crooned a lullaby to keep him calm while firefighters cut away twisted metal, trying to free him. He’d bled out before the paramedics could even reach him. His partner made the sign of the cross and bowed his head when they zipped up the body bag. Joe mimicked his motions and wiped at his eyes. 

And tonight sitting in his usual spot, the untouched coffee Caitlyn gave him growing cold in his hand, Joe asked for help. 

_Please, God._

_We need him._

_Bring Barry home._


End file.
